


Milk

by ThirteenSocks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Humour, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Married Couple, Non-Sexual Kink, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenSocks/pseuds/ThirteenSocks
Summary: Shiro is curious about trying something with his husband.





	1. Chapter 1

Shiro felt weird the first time he got the courage to bring it up.

Keith was tucked on a courner of their loveseat, long hair tossed up into a messy bun, sketching something in his sketchbook. The charcoal he was using was powdered and smudged all over his hands, and a few spots on his face. He was concentrating hard, drawing furiously. The light from the window spilled onto him, framing him.

An urge built up inside Shiro. Not necessarily an erotic one, but it felt just as urgent. He wanted to curl into Keith. Keith, the small man, whom had been Shiro’s rock, his protector over the years.

The words came out before he could stop himself. ”I was reading an article about how men can lactate.”

Keith, blessed man, with near infinite patience for his husband, set down his piece of charcoal, scrubbed the bridge of his nose, leaving prints, and gave an open expression. ”Oh?” His voice the familiar honeyed rasp that both stings and soothes Shiro. There’s almost nothing about Keith that doesn’t light a fire in Shiro’s veins, one way or another.

”Yeah. You know, actually, breastfeeding is really good for babies because of the skin-to-skin. It really fosters a bond.”

Keith quirks an eyebrow and chuckles. ”Are you trying to tell me you’re pregnant? You haven’t even bottomed for, like, months.”

Shiro smacks a hand to his forehead. He didn’t even mean to get this far, but, since he’s already there, he figures he might as well follow up. Keith is smart, especially when it comes to people, even moreso Shiro himself, there would be no bullshitting his way out of this. ”Well, uh. No. Wait- I thought you liked bottoming. Keith, baby, if you need to switch let me kn-”

”Shiro, stop. I love bottoming. I’d let you know. Just, tell me what’s up.”

”Oh.” Oh. Yeah. Keith would never hesitate to voice something like that. For all Shiro’s size and muscle, Keith has to only ask please and Shiro will do it. Keith knows that, too. ”Ok. Uh well. I just. I was kinda wondering if... well, I mean. Men can lact- I already said that. Damn. Ok, Keith. Do you want to try?”

Keith must be able to read the insecurity from Shiro, because his whole face softens. He reaches a hand out, but stops when he seems to register the black on his fingers. Shiro gently grabs the hand and brings it to cup around his own cheek.

”Shiro, you don’t have to hide from me. I love you. I won’t judge you.” And he wouldn’t. ”Now, let me get this right. Are you asking me to breastfeed you?”

It sounds scary when Keith says it like that. So plain and blunt. But Keith’s eyes are gentle when he says it. There’s no disgust or judgement.

”Only if it’s something you’d want to do. I read that it’s hard to induce lactation. It’s kind of tedious and then, there’s discomfort that comes with.. uh,... having... uh, yknow. Milk. In your chest. Or so I’ve heard.”

Keith hums.

”I just- It’s not always sexual. It sounds like it can be really comforting to both people and, good for bonding.”

”It’s ok, Shiro. You don’t have to defend yourself. I.. I admit it’s never crossed my mind but, it might be worth a try. Here, how about you bring your tablet over and share some of research with me. Let’s talk about this, ok?”

The image of laying across Keith’s lap, curled into him, latching his mouth to breast flashes in Shiro’s head. There’s something to the idea of drinking Keith’s milk, nourishment his husband’s body has made, just for him, that makes him feel warm. Feeding from Keith seems like it would be relaxing.

Shiro retrieves his tablet and quickly open the first article. This one talks about the so-called ”adult nursing relationship”. He wants Keith to know it’s not an age play fetish, or anything. Not that that would be bad, but it’s not why he wants this.

They spend a couple of hours looking online, and talking about it.

Keith’s greatest reservations are that his breasts will be sore, and his nipples may crack and bleed until the milk starts producing. If it does, anyway. Otherwise, he admits that he likes the thought of doing this with Shiro.

”You’ve always liked my cream anyway.” Keith jokes, breaking into a fit of laughter when Shiro just groans.

”Keith.” He whines.

”Shiro,” he echoes the tone, ”Not that I’m complaining. Or have room to talk.” He raises his hands like he’s been charged guilty.

”What so you call again, getting ”cum drunk”?”

”Hey, hey. That is most defiently a thing, alright. I will not sit here and let you shame me.” He says with all the seriousness in the world. Shiro loves that about him. Keith is so good at dead pan humour. Shiro is one lucky man. ”But really, it’s. Yeah. I want to try this.”

So they spend some time shopping around for pumps.


	2. Chapter 2

”Keith, baby-”

”Takashi, don’t you, ”Keith, baby” me.” Keith shoots him a look.

 

Shiro, wonderful, handsome, but most importantly, smart, Shiro, raises his hands in placation.

 

Keith must admit that, yes, alright, it is true that his hormones have been all over the place. After speaking with their friend Hunk, blessed Hunk with his shiney diplomas and medical clinic, about their intent to get Keith to lactate, Keith had been prescribed a low dose of hormones. Which was to speed things a long. Inducing is a few months venture for someone born with a body built for pregnancy, so the two expected that after that, where most would be lactating a decent amount, he’d at least be making a few drops of milk. Instead, all he had to show for it was longer, more teat-like nipples, and the vague, constant feeling of, ”Oh God I need to be milked right the fuck now.”

 

And itching.

 

Keith wanting so badly to scratch his nipples, but the itch was more internal and, when scratched, would just replace itself with the tinging that was meant to preceed let down.

 

The hormones were a God-send, as far as Keith was concerned. All the prep work had made him susceptible to the changes. His breasts filled out a modest A cup, now. Much to Shiro’s delight, who loved squeezing them. And the areolas darkened. Milk, his breasts were telling him, in a sigh of relief, was on its way.

 

Except, hormones meant

 

Hormones.

 

So Keith was, uh, maybe, a ’tad’ bit moody. Possibly.

 

Which brought them to their current tiff.

 

Keith had tried to open a jar. And tried. And tried. Only the stupid thing might as well have been glued. All he wanted was some good, blueberry jam, for his toast to have alongside eggs. He woke up starving and there was going to be nothing in the universe that would stand in the way between him and, very specifically, his toast and eggs. In nearly tears of frustration, he shook Shiro awake and shoved the jar at his chest.

 

He didn’t meant to be snippy. Honest. He loves his husband and far be it from him to take things out on the man. But Shiro, poor, poor Shiro, was still sleepy and had little filters, and the only facts he had to go off were that, A. His husband was in tears, B. His husband needed a jar open, and C. His husband was in tears because he needed the jar open, so he chuckled and mentioned somehing about Keith seeming pregnant.

 

Big Yikes.

 

”Baby, please. C’mere. Let’s.. breath and take a minute, ok?”

 

Keith is only human, and there are only so many times Shiro can ”baby” him before he crumbles.

 

He sighs and joins Shiro on the bed, resting his cheek against Shiro’s broad chest.

 

”Is there something you need from me? Let’s check in your with body. Sometimes I get cranky when I’m hungry, but don’t notice that’s why until I take the time to figure it out.” Shiro’s rubbing Keith’s shoulder.

 

Being married is, to his chargrin, sometimes about doing this. Whomever says adults don’t have tantrums, or require an almost ”time out” type deal, is no older than 25.

 

Keith choose instead to focus on the fact that Shiro is going to be an amazing father when they’re ready to adopt.

 

”Itchy.” He mumbles as best he can with his cheek smashed against Shiro.

 

”Want a massage?” There’s a tone of eagerness and hope to it. He tries playing cool, but Keith knows Shiro wants his milk to come in as much as Keith does.

 

He hums ascent.

 

Shiro rearranges them so that Keith’s back is leaning against his front. Keith sighs happily, letting his head fall back on Shiro’s shoulder. His eyes close as two large, warm hands lay gently against him. A small spark of pleasure strikes him as his breasts are encompassed by palms. They fill, with what, Keith doesn’t know, as they’re gently kneaded.

 

”Mmmn.” Keith let’s his own hands rest on the thick thighs at either side of him.

 

”Good?” Shiro speaks with a voice as gentle as the workings of his hands.

 

”Yeah.” Even to himself, the rasp in his voice sounds needy.

 

Keith feels more than hears the rumble of chuckles coming from Shiro as his body becomes dead weight.

 

Shiro moves the breasts in circles, following all the ways he’s been told will encourage milk production. Nipples grow hot beneath the touch, and it continues to feel like he’s swelling.

 

It’s disgustingly intimate what they’re doing, and Keith guesses this is why Shiro wanted this in the first place. It’s so soothing, too. Shiro is working the ache right away from him. Even though his chest feels heavy, so heavy, and full, though nothing leaks, it’s a balm against the itch.

 

”Shiro.”

 

He’s groggy, despite not being the one woken from sleep to open a jar, and pliant as Shiro changes their positions so that Keith is against the headboard. They face each other.

 

”Shiro.” He says again because it’s all he can manage and the man is such a good husband, so in love with Keith, so in-tune, that it’s all he has to say before warm lips are on his. And then on his cheek. Then his neck. And down. Down. Until they brush against a nipple. It’s hardened, but not pebbled, instead it’s rounded and full, and Keith can just imagine the milk leaking from it. Shiro welcomes it in as if that were the very thing happening.

 

Keith makes a noise between a huff and sigh. He closes his eyes again, watching Shiro suckle him is too much for his over-taxed nerves. He’s having a time enough of dealing being inside that warm, hot mouth, getting tugged and coaxed to provide warm milk.

 

He presses fingertips hard into Shiro’s shoulders. It’s too sensual. It’s too... too. Keith isn’t sure how he’s going to handle things when it finally comes in.

 

Allowing himself to let go, to moan and sigh and arch into it, he lets Shiro suckle until the breast looses pressure, probably thinking the milk all gone.

 

”O.. Other one. Please.” It feels that much fuller now that the other one has relaxed.

 

It’s pure bliss.

 

When Shiro’s finished, Keith’s produced been milked another kind.

 

He dips down and takes Shiro in his mouth. And, as he drinks Shiro down, hot, sticky, and flowing, he understands why Shiro is so desperate to get Keith lactating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the change in preview!   
> The preview will actually be for another chapter, so, if you liked that, you’ll see it later. 
> 
> Thank you all for your kudos and comments! 
> 
> I hope your week goes fabulous!   
> -Socks


	3. Chapter 3

It’s not uncommon nowadays for Shiro to walk into the room to find Keith absently massaging his chest. Shiro can’t blame him, either, they’ve become really soft and there’s something calming about kneading them in your hands. It’s not even sexual, though it can be, they’re just nice to hold.

 

”I can’t believe she’s neglected the clams. Claire, that was part of the challenge,” Keith berates the woman on the television, ”They are not gonna let that slide after that casserole, disasterole.” He tuts and shakes his head. He’s vegetating on the couch, chin tucked in, resting on his chest, hands moving his breasts like dough beneath the hoodie. It’s comical, seeing the motion of his hands under the fabric, while he keeps his attention forward.

 

”Babe, are you trying to coach these actual chefs on cooking, again?”

 

Keith scoffs, as if he hasn’t burnt simple dishes before. His hands don’t still though.

 

Shiro tries not let his gaze flick down, lest Keith become aware of what he’s doing, and become self-concious. He settles in beside Keith and they watch as Claire absolutely gets chopped. He’s a hypocrite because the next round has them both lecturing the people on the show.

 

”I’m gonna get some chips.” Keith makes to get up, the commercials running in the background.

 

”Hey, no. Stay. I’ll get it.”

 

”Shiro,” he sounds scandalized, ”You just got home from work.”

 

”And you work from home. It’s ok, I don’t mind.” He’ll remind Keith of the value of his work as many times as it takes. It’s no skin off his brow to pour a bowl of chips, not if it means Keith can remain cozy on the couch, unconciously coaxing himself to make milk. After all the hardships they’ve been through, more as individuals than together, the relationship being the solace from it all, Shiro treasures the image of Keith like this. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s something else, but Keith looks more comfortable than ever. Maybe it’s his new relationship with his body, he appears more in-tune. Maybe it’s the trust he shows Shiro, that softness in his eyes, the vulnerability.

 

So, what’s a bowl of chips?

* * *

 

”How was work?” Keith asks as Shiro settles down on the couch, bowl of chips in hand. 

”Oh, you know.”

”That bad huh?”

 

He knows Keith, knows where he’s headed with that thought. ”You have bad days too. We all do. It’s just part of... Being an adult and responsible. We go to work and pay bills.” He shovels about three chips in his mouth. Each other unaligned wih each other, so it ends up being a far less graceful maneuver than planned.

 

”Us, responsible adults?”

 

”Hey,” he speaks around the mouthfull, ”I said adult AND responsible, indicating they are not the same thing.”

 

”Sometimes I eat ice cream for breakfast.” Keith shrugs and dives into the chipbowl, extracting a couple, and, as if he hadn’t learned from Shiro’s mistake, shoves them in his mouth.

 

”I’ll leave laundry until it’s piled up.”

 

”I watch Saturday morning cartoons.”

 

”I nap.”

 

”Hey. Everyone naps. Well, ok, not everyone. But lots of adults take naps.”

 

Shiro chuckles and nuzzles Keith’s hair with his cheek.

 

”Takashi, what are you doing?” He snorts.

 

”My hands are all gross. I wasn’t about to-” he gets an idea.

 

”That’s your ’I just had an idea’ face. I swear to fuck, if you put your greasy ass hands in my ha- TAKASHI!”

 

Shiro makes a move to do it, but Keith is fast and throws his hands out to defend his mane. Unabashed laughter roars out of Shiro. Sometimes they’re both such children. He loves Keith. So, so much.

* * *

 

There’s a definite distinction between a nipple and a teat. Shiro likes watching the transition on Keith. For the most part, other than being slightly larger-than-aversge now, his nipples are close to the breast and you wouldn’t think anything of it. But when stimulated, the nipple lengthens, it swells, and becomes, well, a teat.

 

Shiro’s unable to fight that, no matter what he was doing or thinking previous, glimpsing a teat will always bring his attention and person to Keith.

 

It just looks so needy.

 

He can’t ignore that need. And he can’t wait until the fruits of their labor is sweet, streams of milk.

 

Bodies are weird. Desires, even weirder.

 

He supposes there are worse things.

* * *

 

Shiro’s tried not to notice. He knows Keith likes his privacy, but he sounds in pain. ”Babe, do you want the heating pad?”

 

Keith just hums in confirmation.

 

He gets the pad and plugs it in, having Keith sit up from the couch so he can get behind. Shiro wraps his arm partially around, as Keith is very small comparitively, and holds the circular pad to one side of Keith’s chest. Flicking it on, ”Here you go, baby. It should heat up soon.” He feels Keith relax back against him.

 

”They’re sore.” His voice is scratchy. ”I was trying to nap.”

 

Keith had been massaging his chest when Shiro came in. ”Maybe the milk is coming in? They’ve been firmer the past few days.”

 

”Please.” It’s a whine, a frustrated and pained whine.

 

”I know, baby. I know.” He gently massages the other breast, feeling the pad heat beneath his palm.

 

Shiro hopes it comes soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I’m gonna write a lactation kink fic  
> Also, me: Why not throw in some things about being an adult and married life? 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Socks


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning:   
> This chapter contains daddy kink. It’s also pretty angsty because Shiro finds out that there’s an aspect of it he doesn’t like. This chapter is about discovering kinks, communication, and setting boundaries. It was hard to write, being honest. But it felt natural for this fic, as it explores sort of the... lore gritty and real side to kinks/fetishes, sex, and married life. 
> 
> If you would like to just read the steamy part then go ahead and stop reading at the line, ”It’s a good look.” 
> 
> Also, I am 100% kink positive. I’m a former safer sex educator/rapid hiv tester. Talking sex, bodies, and kinks, as well as the greater implications, the psychology, and emotional impact of it all was my full time job. Shiro’s feelings in this chapter are not meant to reflect my personal take on daddy kink, but rather how I could see Shiro dealing with the kink with what we know about his character. I, personally, think there’s a real healing to be had from roleplay or power dynamic play scenarios that happen between a consenting and communicative party. 
> 
> *This may show up later with Keith.

’I have some good news and some bad news.’

 

Shiro’s in an office meeting when he gets the text from Keith. It pays to be the boss, he thinks as his phone chirps what has to be the biggest mistake of his life; Shiro recorded Keith’s notification sound as the man himself saying, per Shiro’s insistence, in a pouty and whiney voice, ”Baaaby, pick up your phone.” Which, also unfortunately repeats for the full 30 seconds as he fumbles around for his phone. The first 20 were spent in shock as all eyes fell on him.

 

The one day Shiro doesn’t silence his phone in a meeting, and the whole office just got to hear the exact voice Shiro has begged Keith to use while plowing him deep into the mattress.

 

He’s moritified. But thankful, if he has to find something not entirely ass-up (no pun intended. Sort of) about the situation, that Keith isn’t saying something like, ”Daddy, please, answer me, I need you.” Which is definetly, absolutely, something Shiro considered.

 

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist, he supposes. But being shamed by the ringtone in a shopping centre is much different from his underlings doing it.

 

”Well, now’s a good time to bring up our failings this past quarter.”

 

They groan, but at least the message gets across.

 

It’s not exactly Keith’s fault, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go home and ’punish’ him.

 

 

”Spank me, daddy.” Which should sound hot. In principle, that phrase would have Shiro buried in Keith faster than the time it takes them to climb the stairs. Which. Ok, sure, isn’t all that fast. Shiro’s 30, and Keith is just worn out from strain.

 

Perhaps a bit anxious to try something new, something that didn’t involve months of convincing Keith’s body to do it, they’d set out to the internet to find what other people were doing.

 

”Daddy?” It had been innocent, questioning, Keith just reading from the screen. ”That’s... uh. New.” He laughed a little too high-pitched, a little too strained. ”Imagine liking being called dadd- Shiro?”

 

Shiro hadn’t needed to imagine.

 

Keith rubbed at the side of his neck, refusing to meet Shiro’s gaze. At least, Shiro thought, they really were deepening their relationship as they set out to. Keith’s never shy. He’s confident and passionate and holds back no words. Except when he’s unsure. Except when he thinks he’ll be judged. It’s almost always for important things.

 

Shiro’s voice takes on the same heady rasp as Keith’s voice just naturally has. ”Say it again.” It’s a question. It’s made as a statement, because he knows Keith, and knows there’s an escape in this by masquerading as if under orders. The reigns are in Keith’s hands.

 

No matter what position. No matter how stuffed full of Shiro, or covered in sperm, or deep he is held into the mattress, Keith always has the reigns. He leads so gently. So much so that it makes Shiro feel in control. He guides Shiro without having to do anything. Has Shiro on his knees, tucked between thighs, cock heavy in mouth sometimes, other times tongue ravishing him like he’s the last meal and Shiro’s been starved. It’s the quietness. How Keith is always vocal beyond their bedroom, or whereever else Shiro lays him down, but he’s not apt to give noises, even in bliss. The need to evoke groans, or those tender sighs, near voiceless, all too missable, drives Shiro to worship at the man’s body. Like Keith is a church and Shiro is devout.

 

”Daddy.”

 

Shiro wants to run screaming from the run. If ever a voice itself were fuckable, that was it. He hopes to find out that Keith would like to open his throat. He wants to wreck it. Wants it drag heavier on syllables.

 

Before the self-hatred can get him, the reality that he doesn’t want to hurt Keith, he’s numbing himself to anything but that small word.

 

Finally meeting Keith’s eyes, which are shining from the reflecting light of the computer screen, said light exposing the pin point of his pupils, Shiro thinks he understands what Keith wants from this. He breathes ragged and swallows. He’s said it beforw, but not like this. Not after that word. He watches Keith. Either the man will come undone, or else he’ll reject this, and it’ll be the end of it. It’s a risk, but the fire in his stomach is burning, it’s roaring to life. He observes as Keith’s teeth chew against his bottom lip, raking it, reddening it, plumping it up. Keith seems to sense what Shiro’s thinking.

 

Shiro moves in closer, letting his breath spill hot against the side of Keith’s neck and ear. From here, Shiro can hear the soft intake of breath that Keith does.

 

The air is charged and desperate.

 

Then he speaks the word, finally, ”Baby.” And everything is a blur as they move from teeth-clicking kisses, to biting whereever they can reach, to loose handjobs, to finally, sweet, finally, Shiro curved over Keith, working inside him with steady pumps of the hips. Keith is gasping more than usual. And, when a thrust hits just right, and an honest-to-god moan escapes Keith, Shiro knows they’re both cumming violently and soon.

 

”Shhh baby, I’ve got you. It’s ok.” He pauses, back in the room, where Keith is bent over his knee, handprints already smarting his backside. It’s painful to speak to Keith like this, in the sense that it fills a hidden need, and hurts him from how gratifying it is, how much it makes him ache to explode on or in Keith.

 

It ends up being both, as Keith gives a sloppy blowjob, spit and cum running both down his chin and back his throat.

 

It’s a good look.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

”Are you ok?” Keith’s light had been turned off an hour ago, book placed gingerly on his nightstand.

 

Shiro’s been awake, flipping through channels, with the sound off and subtitles on. He grunts, hoping Keith will be too sleepy to press. But he’s not so lucky, as he hears the fabric of their thick, downy comforter ruffle, and feels the bed move slightly. Keith is small, their mattress expensive, so it’s more the sounds that alert Shiro.

 

Keith wiggles his way up to Shiro, whose back is resting on a pillow against the headboard. He gently coaxes Shiro’s fingers from the remote, placing it off to the side.

 

”You can talk to me about it. I.. I think I felt it earlier. When we were having sex, you seemed.... distant.” Keith has always had trouble finding words. It’s not nervous or accussing. He’s just concerned, as so much as it’s weighing on Shiro.

 

He can’t keep secrets from Keith. Everyone else, far too easily. But never Keith. ”I kind of liked what we did earlier but. I also kind of didn’t.”

 

Keith hums, reaching up to link their hands, playing softly with the thick band on Shiro’s finger.

 

”It feels... like I.. Hurt you? I mean- It was almost like degrading you. It shouldn’t have.. felt good. I’m really sorry.”

 

”I enjoyed myself. I know you respect me, Takashi.” He rasies their hands, kissing where Shiro’s ring is. ”But, sex is supposed to feel good for both of us. If you’re uncomfortable, then I am.”

 

”I.. Yeah. I guess I am uncomfortable. It was really hot but. I don’t know.”

 

”Hmm. Was it the daddy part of the spanking?”

 

He thinks for a bit. ”No, I liked the daddy part. I like spoiling you.” That felt like how we usually are. That you’re in control, without even being in control. ”But, spanking just... I don’t like hitting you. Even if it’s concensual or wanted. I think.”

 

”You pamper me even without calling me baby.” There’s an airy chuckle, and it’s soothing to hear. ”I’m sorry about earlier. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have done it.”

 

Shiro sighs and brings their foreheads together. ”We didn’t know. Don’t be hard on yourself, baby.” It’s not the sexual ’baby’, it’s their usual baby. ”Now we know. I mean. I do like being Daddy. Just maybe more like, a doting, sugar type.”

 

Keith snorts. ”Does that make me your sugar baby? Your arm candy? Your gold digger?”

 

”Why else would you go after someone my age, young man?” He laughs. Keith turned it light. The hardness in his stomach is easing away.

 

”Ah, yes. Thirty year olds. You had to bring home the money to get this twenty something.”

 

”Now you tell me. After we’ve signed our vows and agreements. I’m gonna start worrying if I see you in one of those fur coats.”

 

”With a glass of champagne and a long cigar?”

 

”The finest my old money can finance.”

 

”Aww, thanks, babe.” Keith kisses his cheek.

 

Shiro smiles.

This is how you set boundaries. This is how it happens when someone loves you.

 

”We’ll stick to the milk for now. Can’t be too far off.” Keith winks and cups his breasts, jiggling them in his hands. It’s about an A cup, or small B’s worth of breast, so it’s more comical than sexy. It’s cute. It’s stupid. Keith knows it too.

 

”I love you.”

 

”Yeah, yeah. Only for my body. Especially these melons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long rant at top. I hope it helped you make an informed decision, and that you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos!
> 
> I will be replying soon : ) 
> 
> I’ve felt so overwhelmed trying to get out the next chapter of my long fic that, I’ve been pretty closed off lately. 
> 
> Take care and have a great week 
> 
> Love,  
> Socks


	5. Chapter 5

The thing about not having a baby to feed, but trying to get milk, is that you won’t have a natural schedule or cue for production. Which means, to Keith’s dismay, the cue can be as simple as taking in a deep, relaxing breath, and then there’s a familiar tug in his chest. There’s still no milk, of course, save for the precious few drops he’s able to squeeze out right after the sensation. The let down, at least right now, is something of a, well, let down.

Sitting in a movie theater, Shiro to his left, Hunk to his right, followed by the rest of the group, Keith feels the spasm.

”Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. It’s no time for a ’bathroom’ break with what’s happening on screen. But he knows he can’t ignore it. Both because his body won’t let him and it could erase all the hard work he’s put in. If he stops before the milk comes in he’ll have to start over with inducing.

Shiro nudges him and tips his head toward the direction of Keith’s chest.

Keith nods, biting his lip and digging his fingernails into the plush fabric of the handrests.

”Go ahead, babe.” Shiro whispers soft in Keith’s ear. The sound of explosions from the movie mask his voice.

’People breastfeed all the time,’ he tells himself, ’I mean, it’s in the dark. It probably happens a lot in movie theaters.’ He glances to his right, gauging the groups’ attention on the screen. Hunk is drumming his fingers on the hand rests, body tense and glued back to the seat. Lance is leant forward, lips tight and muttering under his breath. Pidge is. Pidge. She’s munching on popcorn and looking unfazed.

Keith runs his tongue across his lips and slowly pulls his shirt up to one side. He doesn’t move his eyes from the screen as he hears the shuffling beside him, nor when he feels hot breath caress the tender, swollen, and sensitive nipple. The first lick draws a gasp from him. The tongue is wet and warm. The skin of his breast tightens even more and the nipple peaks painfully tight. ”Hh..,” he scrunches his toes in his shoes. Looking to the side he’s grateful that the others are still engrossed in the movie.

Shiro takes a few tenative suckles to latch. It burns fire from the pit of Keith’s stomach to swell of his breast.

He’s not sure if he’s producing milk but there’s a pulsing along the nerves inside and his breasts are clenching. Not unlike the way his fingers are holding the armrest.

Shiro is a wonderful feeder. His mouth feels silky, too. Especially the top of his tongue which slides along the nipple in rhythm. His large hands kneed the swollen chest as he sucks and Keith’s body aches to provide the man with fresh warm milk. Every so often his teeth graze the nipple and force its peak further into his mouth.

Keith shifts in his seat as he hears the quiet sound of Shiro suckling greedily. There’s a new tightness forming in his pants. He looks over once more. They’re safe. He closes his eyes as his body melts down into the seat in a pleasure-induced paralysis. All he can feel is pulsing, the contracting, and desperation from his breast to spill warm in Shiro’s throat.

Keith cums in his pants with a scream held in by tightened lips.

”I’ll get your other one at home,” Shiro rasps in Keith’s ear and tugs the shirt back down over Keith.

He nods. There’s no energy to do anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started adderall yesterday and Oh Man ™ it’s gonna be a learning curve. (Aka: I’m super wired and motivated to do things, but I’m not yet able to sit down and really concentrate. I’m not used to having energy at all.)  
> This one has been in wip for months but figured I’d finish it up. : ’) Sorry it’s so short.


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